


Like You're Nobody At All

by MontagueBitch (porcia_catonis)



Series: The Fulvia Chronicles [3]
Category: Classical Greece and Rome History & Literature RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9647441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcia_catonis/pseuds/MontagueBitch
Summary: He thinks of himself as little more than a miscreant member of Clodius's gangs.  She sees past that, knows he'll be so much more than any of this.  Set in 58 BCE in their budding affair.  Mini-fic written for a tumblr prompt.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "things you said under the stars and in the grass" on my rp blog. Also can you believe this will be AO3's first Fulvia/Antony fic? I'm so sorry! I'm so subpar!

No eyes but the stars peering down pry into their business like this, and she is grateful.  The servants, by now, know to listen when their young mistress commands they leave her to herself, and make no questions when she receives a member of Clodius’ gangs in the courtyard.

Antony is, as ever, a flash of lightning on a too-quiet night, picking her up like she is nothing, and the two are sure to be grass-stained beyond repair when they rise--her hair is everywhere, unbound, and the hungry look in his eyes teaches her how Daphne must have felt.

“I have to say, you know,”  she turns over, sprayed on her side to look at him, when they have both exhausted themselves, “That I’m quite impressed that you come when I ask for you in the middle of the night.  That’s alarming dedication.”

He smirks, shrugs it off, shouldering it all in such a way that makes her heart melt.  “If  I don’t come, you might stop asking.  I can’t have that.”  He stretches, a yawn with it, and she drinks up his body, illuminated by the moon, in all its glory.  “Besides, with all due respect, we both know that it’s more of a command.  Who am I to disobey Clodius’s lady?”

She’s scandalized for a moment.   _Clodius’s lady indeed._  She needs to remind herself that, love one another though they might, Clodius has never been particular on exclusivity.  Bona Dea burned that into every memory.  “You say that like you’re nobody at all.”  She shakes her head.  “Don’t tell me you don’t see it, too.”  

“What am I meant to be seeing?”

“You’re a blind fool, you know that?”  She teases, shoving him gently upon the arm.  “You can’t see the way men hang on you while you speak, or the way words of everything you do carries through the streets like a plague.  Nobody here gains that kind of notoriety.”

He’s given pause for a moment, and Fulvia is sure Olympus must be toppling, to see her haughty lover rendered wordless.  “And what would you have me do with all of that?”

She leans forward, presses her lips to his, and their foreheads haven’t parted yet when she speaks again.  “You’d make a fine soldier.  A statesman even.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?”  He laughs, and her arm on his shoulder feels him quake with it.  Fulvia only shakes her head.

“No, I don’t think it is.  I think anyone with a brain would notice you.”

“So you think army commanders have all got heads on their shoulder, eh?”  He pulls back, enough for her to see his quizzical expression, the return of the smirk.

“You’re awful, Antony,” she says through mirth.  “But I think you’ll find one.  I’d put money down for you.  You deserve more than for only a handful to know the name Mark Antony.”

The smirk is softened, silence making it a smile for a while.  “Perhaps.  I’ll hopefully make them know the name Fulvia, too.”

“Oh, hush, leave that one to me. I have my ways of making my own name."  She kissed him again, before they set in motion another round of ruining her dress in the grass.


End file.
